Through Dark Waters

The darkness in the tunnel seemed to press in tighter with every step. The distant growls that echoed behind us felt like a constant reminder that something was chasing us—something large, dangerous, and unknown. I could hear our footsteps splashing against the damp floor, the air heavy with moisture, making it harder to breathe.

Zeke led the way, his tablet casting a faint blue glow on the walls, while Apollo stayed at the back, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. Lylia walked between us, her face pale and tight with fear, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

The air felt thick with unspoken words, with doubts none of us dared to voice.

We had been moving for what felt like hours, twisting through the labyrinth of tunnels beneath the city. The further we went, the deeper we seemed to plunge into the forgotten underworld, the sounds of the surface fading into nothing. The walls were covered in grime, the floor slick with water, and the occasional sound of dripping echoed through the narrow corridors.

It felt like we were being swallowed whole by the earth, and I wasn't sure we would ever find our way out.

"We can't keep going like this," Lylia finally whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of our footsteps. Her words were a plea, her tone brittle and frayed. "We don't even know where we're going."

Zeke didn't stop. His eyes stayed locked on the tablet in front of him, his fingers flying over the screen as he mapped out our route. "There's an exit up ahead," he muttered, his voice clipped. "We just need to get to the other side of the maintenance tunnel."

"But what if it's blocked?" Lylia's voice wavered. "What if there's no way out?"

"There is," Zeke said firmly, but his tone carried none of his usual confidence. It was the voice of someone clinging to the last shred of hope.

I glanced over at Lylia, watching the way she kept glancing over her shoulder, her hands trembling at her sides. Her fear was palpable, suffocating. But I couldn't afford to let her panic infect the rest of us. Not now. Not when we were so close.

"We'll find a way out," I said softly, though I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince her or myself. "We've made it this far."

Lylia's eyes flicked toward me, her expression tight with something I couldn't quite place—fear, doubt, maybe even regret.

The tunnel opened up into a larger space, the walls widening around us into what looked like an old drainage system. The air was colder here, the sound of water rushing faintly from somewhere deep within the structure.

Zeke stopped, his brow furrowed as he scanned the area. "We're close," he said quietly, more to himself than to us. "The exit should be on the other side of this chamber."

Apollo moved forward, stepping carefully over the slick stones. "We should check the area first. Make sure there aren't any surprises waiting for us."

I nodded, keeping my gaze on the shadows that clung to the edges of the chamber. The distant growls had faded for now, but I knew better than to think we were safe. The infected—whatever was out there—were relentless. They were always moving, always hunting.

Lylia hesitated, standing near the entrance, her arms wrapped around herself. "I don't like this," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It feels… wrong."

"Everything feels wrong," I muttered, but I understood what she meant. There was a tension in the air that felt unnatural, like the tunnel itself was watching us, waiting for something to happen.

Zeke moved toward a rusted door on the far side of the chamber, his fingers still flying across the tablet. "The exit's right behind this," he said. "We just need to—"

His words were cut off by the sound of a low, guttural growl.

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. The growl was different this time—deeper, more resonant, and closer than before.

Apollo's eyes darted toward the shadows, his body tensing as he raised his weapon. "It's here."

The air shifted, and I felt it—a vibration in the ground, a low rumble that seemed to pulse through the walls. Something was moving through the tunnel. And it was big.

A massive figure emerged from the darkness at the edge of the chamber, its hulking form barely visible in the faint light. Its skin was pale and stretched tight over bulging muscles, its eyes glowing with a predatory intelligence that sent a chill down my spine.

It wasn't just another infected.

It was something worse.

The creature let out a roar, the sound reverberating through the chamber like a wave of pressure, and I felt it in my bones. It moved with terrifying speed for something so large, its limbs long and powerful, its body crouched low like a predator ready to strike.

"We need to move!" I shouted, my voice barely audible over the creature's roar.

Zeke scrambled back, his tablet clattering to the ground as the creature lunged toward him. Apollo fired his weapon, the gunshots echoing through the chamber, but the bullets barely slowed the thing down. It was too strong, too fast.

Lylia screamed, backing away as the creature turned its gaze toward her, its massive hands swiping through the air. She stumbled, her back hitting the wall, and for a moment, I thought she was going to freeze.

"Lylia, run!" I shouted, rushing forward to grab her arm, pulling her out of the creature's reach.

But as I dragged her toward the rusted door, I felt her resistance. She wasn't moving. She wasn't even trying to run.

"Lylia!" I screamed again, panic rising in my throat as the creature closed in.

Her eyes met mine, and in that moment, I saw it—the doubt, the fear, the resignation. She wasn't frozen from fear. She wasn't hesitating because of the creature.

She wasn't with us anymore.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. Lylia had given up. Maybe she had given up on us, on the mission, or on herself—but whatever it was, it was too late. She had made her choice.

I barely had time to react before the creature lunged again, its massive hand smashing into the ground where we had been standing just seconds before. The force of the impact sent debris flying through the air, and I stumbled backward, pulling Lylia with me.

"We need to go!" Apollo shouted, grabbing Zeke and dragging him toward the door.

I didn't wait to argue. I pulled Lylia with me, her body limp as she stumbled along, her eyes vacant. The creature roared again, its body crashing against the walls of the chamber as it chased after us, its massive limbs tearing through stone and metal like it was paper.

We reached the door, and Apollo shoved it open with all his strength. We tumbled through, collapsing onto the cold ground on the other side. The door slammed shut behind us, the creature's growls fading as it smashed into the barrier.

For a moment, the only sound was our ragged breathing, the cold air burning my lungs as I gasped for breath.

But then I turned to Lylia, and my chest tightened.

She wasn't panicked. She wasn't terrified.

She was calm.

Too calm.

"What's wrong with you?" I demanded, grabbing her by the shoulders, shaking her. "Why didn't you run?"

Her eyes flicked toward me, and in that moment, I saw something I hadn't expected—regret. But not for what had just happened. For something deeper.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I didn't want to do this."

My heart sank, the full weight of her words hitting me like a blow.

She wasn't just scared. She had already made a deal. A decision.

Before I could speak, the door rattled behind us, the metal groaning under the weight of something massive trying to break through.

Whatever was down here with us wasn't done.

And neither was Lylia.